[ Music ]
>> Sponsored by the
James Madison Council
and the National
Endowment for the Arts.
[ Music ]
>> Welcome to the
National Book Festival,
and we've got a great
panel for you here today.
My name is Bethanne
Patrick, I am a book critic
and I also love to
interview authors.
And today I have two
wonderful women here with me.
First, Silvia Garcia-Moreno,
whose "Mexican Gothic" came
out last year and whose
"Velvet Was the Night" will come
out this summer.
Both from Del Rey.
And Sara Pearse, whose
novel, whose debut novel,
"The Sanatorium"
came out this year,
is from Pamela Dormand books.
And I want to say
welcome to both of you.
Thank you for being here.
>> Thank you so much
for having me.
>> Absolutely.
I have lots of questions,
and I will try very hard
not to run over our time.
And I know we also
want to make sure
that these questions are really
clear and we are able to reach
as many audience
members as possible.
So the first thing I
want to address to both
of you is about genre itself.
And we're going to talk about
a couple of different genres.
But working in a genre, I think,
can be really exciting
and really freeing.
And so, I wanted to ask you
each what genre means to you.
And it could be a sentence,
it could be a little bit
longer, whatever you like.
Silvia, may I start with you?
>> Hello. I don't work
in one specific category,
I like to move between
categories and between genres.
Genre constitutes
the basic tropes
that surround a certain
narrative along with its history
and the text that have
come before and that are
in conversation with each other.
>> Yes. Excellent.
And that is so true about the
text being in conversation.
I think that's going
to be very important
for some things we
talk about later.
Thank you.
How about you, Sarah?
>> Yeah, I think very much
to echo what Silvia says,
and I think also it kind
of provides a touch point.
I think one of the key
things I was thinking
about when I was
writing the book is
around how a reader
sees something.
And I think the genre is often
very much a very easy touch
point for the reader.
And I know when I'm in
a certain kind of mood,
I want to read a
certain kind of book.
I think genre is something
that almost bypasses people's
expectations of a book.
I think they can read a blurb,
they can look at things,
but I think when you see a book
categorized in a certain kind
of way, that immediately brings
to mind for the reader certain--
[inaudible] saying, a
textual kind of context.
Yeah, it provides that shortcut
for them, so I think for me,
genre encompasses sort of
everything Silvia said.
And yeah, it's very much
about the reader, I would say.
>> That is-- it's a
really interesting thing.
I'm glad you brought
up the reader.
Because I know that
there are readers
who can't get enough
of Gothic novels.
And we are going to talk
about noir a little later
when we speak about
Silvia's upcoming book.
But with-- I know I'm one of
the readers who can't get enough
of the Gothic tropes and
the Gothic conventions.
No matter what else I read,
no matter what other genres
I look at, I really enjoy it.
And so what does Gothic bring up
and what does it
allow you to do?
Silvia?
>> Gothic is a bit
of a proto genre.
It is the forefather to some
modern categories that we know.
On the one hand, horror.
On the one hand, I would
say it's a forerunner
to domestic [inaudible].
And also to some
types of romance.
There are really
two types of Gothic.
What is termed the
female Gothic,
which are romantic stories
in which there are no
supernatural elements.
So that's the Scooby Doo kind
of situation, where it turns
out that it's not a ghost,
it's a mad wife in the attic.
>> Right?
>> That sort of situation.
And then you've got what is
normally termed the male Gothic.
And those tend to be stories
that have supernatural elements,
have a lot more explicit
violence and sex.
So the parent of that would
be something like The Monk.
And then you would have
works like Dracula,
that sort of situation.
Because Gothic is kind--
develops from the romantic
movement, which begins
in the 1700s and is all
about heightened emotion,
both of these categories
share certain commonalities,
things in Gothic are very big
and sort of when you think
about Wuthering Heights, people
are yelling across the moors.
It's big and dramatic.
But because it is a
very large category,
and it encompasses these twin
poles, you sometimes get things
that feel quite different
in a way.
So, a narrative such
as Frankenstein,
which is another type of
Gothic, feels very different
from the Romanticism of Jane
Eyre of Wuthering Heights.
But there's still--
it's kind of like this--
it's forming this category
and it will let her split
into other variants, and
that's how you will get
on bookshelves something
that we now recognize
as a certain type of romance.
We don't call that Gothic, but
that has many of the elements
that might have been employed
in a Gothic in the 1800s.
Such as the Byronic hero, he's
bad, mad, and dangerous to know.
The exotic location, the ingenue
that are deployed in romances
that are kind of bubbling up
in the '70s as romance comes
to be a certain category.
>> There's so many things
that what you said just
brought up for me, Silvia.
But Sarah, I want to
let you talk a bit
about the Gothic
genre, if, you know,
as Silvia said, a proto genre.
And about where The
Sanatorium fits
in to these strains
that overlap.
And I want to make
sure to mention,
just because we may move
along, is that Mexican Gothic,
Silvia's novel, is a Gothic
that also has horror in it.
So it would be more
that, you know, I guess,
male Gothic, if you will.
Although, it's not,
I don't think so.
But The Sanatorium has
elements of horror as well,
but they're less supernatural
and more psychological.
Not to say there's no
psychological horror
in Mexican Gothic, just
that in The Sanatorium,
that really comes to the
fore for your characters.
So, Sarah, again, what
does Gothic mean do you?
What did it mean to you as
you went in to write the book?
>> Yeah, I think it
probably came a bit
from quite an unusual angle.
I did an interview recently
where we were talking about kind
of the horror elements
of the book.
And I think for me, I very much
see it kind of crossing genre?
There's definite
elements that kind
of constitutes it an
ordinary murder mystery.
But I think really identifiable
bits of the Gothic genre
within the book are very
much that kind of sense,
I suppose I come a bit from
that sense of melodrama?
I think for me, you have
everything is almost--
to use a modern term, maxed out.
So you have a very
dramatic building,
for the kind The Sanatorium's
building, very much kind
of fits with the tropes.
And I think actually I
was very much influenced
by is A Little Stranger
by Sarah Waters.
I don't know if you've
read that book, yeah.
But yeah, where the house
becomes very much a character
in itself.
And I think you have within
Gothic novels, you often have
that very much, a very
strong sense of place.
And I think for me, the
sanatorium, the building,
the [inaudible], because as
it becomes within the novel,
very much uses that
sense of place
to create the sense of unease.
And I think you have within the
main character of Elin that kind
of psychological
that you mentioned.
That kind of almost chipping
away at her sort of sense
of self as she sort of sees
lots of things that happen
within the sanatorium but
also the external environment.
And I think that kind of
weather is very much, again,
the sort of trope you see
within the Gothic novel.
I think for me it very much
reflects Elin's internal kind
of character.
And how she's feeling.
I think we see the
heightening weather
in The Sanatorium is very much
something I wanted to sort
of build for the reader
and for Elin alike.
That kind of sense
of [inaudible].
So for me, I think you have
kind of lots of element
of the Gothic within there.
But yeah, also the
elements of horror.
I think a lot of people as well,
touching on the supernatural,
saw the beginning
going that way.
It wasn't something I
ever had in my mind.
But I think through using those
other elements, you kind of have
that sense, that creeping sense
that something else
is going to happen.
That might not perhaps be
connected to the real world.
So I think I drew on lots.
But it wasn't necessarily a
conscious thing while I was
doing it.
>> It's not necessarily
conscious,
because I would never
presume to think
that writers have all the
answers about their own work.
Because the work, you know,
takes on things that the rest
of us interpret,
the reader responds.
However, I do want to bring up--
I want Silvia to
respond in a way.
Because the atmosphere
of the books, both books,
is extremely important.
And I wanted you, Silvia, tell
us a little bit about the layers
of atmosphere you built up.
Because we go from a modern
Mexico City in the 1950s,
very cosmopolitan and
sophisticated, to this almost--
well, it is a colonial British
kind of home which is set
in the middle of a
Mexican silver mining town.
And then that home
has layers beneath.
And so the atmosphere builds
up through those
different-- it's a journey.
Mexican Gothic is a real
journey in the atmosphere.
So would you talk about
that for a moment please?
>> Yes. I think that
sometimes people who are--
people who are not very
familiar with subgenres
or categories tend to have
a very broad understanding
of books and that means that
they don't kind of get some
of the nuances and differences
between one and the other.
So for example, in
terms of Gothic horror,
what I call the male Gothic,
it is definitely a category
that relies on ambience
and on subtleties,
rather than being the
equivalent of a slasher film.
So Edgar Allen Poe, when
you read him, has elements
of decay, of death, of disease.
And sometimes even
of the supernatural
that are woven into
the narrative.
And that create this ambience
that helps you sink
into the story.
But it's not necessarily
incredibly gory and violent
in a very explicit sort of way.
And so that is one of the
keys of Gothic is atmosphere
and the creation of
this sense of malaise
that overlays the story.
You see it Turn of the Screw,
you see it in other works.
And there's a certain slowness
to it that naturally seems
to be embedded in
these narratives.
And I think one of the problems
with that is that audiences
that are not accustomed
to that say
that it's very boring
or slow or dull.
So I remember there's
somebody that I know
that they hadn't read,
I think it was, yes,
I think it was Turn
of the Screw.
They had never read it before.
And it's recommended, widely
recommend it as a, you know,
Gothic novel, or classic
literature, also a ghost story.
And I told them, well, you
know, just be warned that Turn
of the Screw is a classic
kind of Gothic narrative.
But they didn't understand what
that meant and later they came
on and told me nothing happens.
This is so--
>> Oh!
>> They thought nothing happens.
And it is because it is a lot
about atmosphere and psychology
and the interior being reflected
by the exterior, right?
So those windswept moors
and those stormy nights.
The wind banging on the
shutters are reflections
of the interior psychology
of characters.
And so you've got a lot of work
that is being done interiorly.
Not so much people
hacking heads off
and fighting the living
dead sort of situation.
And so yeah, it's definitely
about atmosphere and layers.
I think for modern audiences,
that can be difficult to grasp
and to toy with because it
can seem very old fashioned.
It's not exactly something
that we're used to reading
and consuming in certain ways.
Also, especially, a lot
of Gothic narratives
use framing devices
that are unusual for nowadays.
People writing a letter
or sitting in a salon
and saying let me tell you
the story of this person
who went mad, that those sorts
of framing devices
sometimes throw people off
and also this building
of atmosphere,
which is characteristic
of the Gothic can
also throw people off.
Because it can seem too
much for a modern audience.
Like it's just way
too much information
about the architecture of a
certain place or the weather.
And I think people might
be like what's next,
what's next, what's next?
So.
>> That is so interesting.
It never occurred to
me, just because I am
such a devoted reader
of the Gothic.
And have read so
many different kinds.
Like as you said, the
different layers and strands
in the genre itself, not
just in these novels.
So Sarah, how do
you feel about that?
Have you seen readers
wondering, you know,
why isn't something happening?
Why do we have to wait so long?
Have you heard things like that?
>> Actually, as Silvia
mentioned, there has been a lot
of feedback initially about
my-- the kind of beginning,
probably quarter, of the novel.
I think I do quite a lot in
terms of sort of setting,
not just the sort
of wider environment
but the hotel itself.
And I focused a little
bit on the architecture.
You have the building is
obviously an abandoned
sanatorium, it's been converted,
but you have lots of elements
of the sort of clinical aspect
of the sanatorium described.
As well as lots of sort
of modernist aspects
of the architecture, which was
used particularly in the Alps.
Buildings themselves
were used, essentially,
as a clinical instrument,
so they have huge windows,
balconies to bring
in lots of light.
And yet, the building
itself, as I say,
became a clinical instrument,
and then within the novel,
I've used it kind
of as a device.
But I think there has
been a lot of frustration.
It takes a while to
get into the novel.
I also draw a lot on
kind of Elin's feelings.
And you have a sense of her
anxiety as it's building.
You're then describing, as
I say, the architecture,
the surrounding environment.
And a lot of people have kind
of said well I want to get
to when something happened.
So we do have the kind
of discovery of a body,
but I think there was a sense
of some readers saying why
didn't that happen sooner?
But I think on the
other side of the coin,
a lot of readers have said
they enjoy that slow buildup.
And that kind of tick, tick,
tick of the atmosphere
slowly building.
So yeah, I think what
Silvia says is right.
I think it very much depends
on the reader expectations
and what they are
wanting from that.
Because yeah, I don't have
something dramatic happening
immediately, but I did that in
order to build that atmosphere.
>> What you both just said
brings me so many questions,
so many questions, ladies.
But one that I want to get
to is about the ladies.
Because you mentioned
Elin, Sarah.
Noemi in Mexican Gothic.
Elin in The Sanatorium.
And also we will talk
about, and Silvia,
I hope I'm saying
this correctly,
but please help me get it right.
Maite in Velvet Was the Night?
>> That's right.
>> Excellent.
All of these are women who--
they're not damsels in distress.
The distress comes
from other places.
I see them as strong
women, women with a lot of,
not complete self knowledge,
but some self knowledge.
And of course, in much earlier
Gothic novels, mystery novels,
horror novels, you
would often find a woman
who was completely helpless.
Completely incapable.
And so one of the
things about these novels
that I enjoyed was seeing
women who aren't necessarily--
they don't have all the
answers, they don't have all
of the things they need.
But they are pretty savvy and
they are willing to be active
on their own behalf and
on the behalf of others.
Would both of you-- either
one of you can respond first.
>> Yeah, I think it's
interesting, you used the word,
Elin as a strong character?
And I think that's something,
it's interesting kind
of hearing different feedback
from readers; that is something
that has quite polarized people.
I'm actually quite
glad about that.
I think for her, a lot of people
have said they don't see her
as a strong character
because she is quite kind
of open about her emotions.
And she's able to kind of talk
through that kind of, sort of,
I don't think she even talks
through it, necessarily.
I think you have some of
that kind of in a monologue,
but you very much
have her behavior.
She's acting in what
would be described
as kind of an emotional way.
But I don't even necessarily
like that kind of description.
I think she is a person
who's just very much her.
And I think as a detective,
I kind of wanted her
to be quite different from
the traditional detective you
usually see.
And I think people
have struggled
with that a little bit.
I think people want
to see almost the kind
of masculine detective.
Kind of masculine traits,
which I wouldn't even
necessarily describe
as masculine.
But that's kind of how
people describe that kind
of very much physical strength,
the bottled up emotion.
So yeah, I think Elin is a
strong woman because she is kind
of unafraid to be herself.
And I think she kind of lays it
all out there for the reader,
and in a way, for herself.
She's kind of going
on a journey,
exploring who she is
through what happens.
But yeah, that's kind
of been polarized.
And I think a lot of people
see that kind of behavior
and there's something
I want to look
at in the workplace
as well, as weak.
If somebody is openly emotional,
that's seen as a weakness.
But yeah, that for
me is a strength.
And that's something
I wanted to play on.
>> Yeah, Gothic heroines are
interesting because they--
just like the Gothic genre,
they tend to be different things
at the same time, and
sometimes contradict each other.
So if you look at kind
of a traditional Gothic
in the very beginning, and
some of the stuff in the 1700s
and 1800s, characters like Emily
from the Mysteries of Udolpho,
she faints 10 times in the
narrative of the novel.
So-- and is completely a victim.
On the other hand, Victor
Frankenstein also faints,
swoons, three times
during that novel.
So.
You know. But mostly it's women.
And they are fainting and
they're being kind of helpless.
You kind of get an
evolution of that as the years
and the decades go by.
And so by the time
you get to the 1960s,
when you have the
Gothic revival,
which is when you've
got Victoria Holdt
and all the mass market
paperbacks that you find
at drug stores and that we,
people my age are most familiar
with because our
mothers bought those
with a woman running
away on the cover.
Very specific aesthetic.
Those heroines are really--
they're both victim
and active player.
And often victim and
detective at the same time.
They're doing the Scooby Doo
romantic Gothic kind of thing,
where they have to find
out what's really happening
and it's going to be
that there's the man,
old farmer Willis in
the yard pretending
to be the ghost admit that,
that sort of situation.
And so these women are
constantly being victimized
for the narratives, but they're
also active agents in a way.
Because they are playing sleuth.
They are trying to solve a
mystery, a puzzle of that sort.
It is sometimes difficult for
people, I think, to understand
that women, especially women--
well, characters in general,
but women specifically,
can be multifaceted.
In that one person is not
just one single thing.
And the demands are often
that men can be multifaceted
in some ways.
And so that's why you
have the Byronic hero
who is both kind of, you know,
he has elements that are evil
and coercive at the same time,
but he's also a romantic hero
and is redeemable and
all that kind of stuff.
You had a woman playing
the romantic Byronic hero,
everybody would you know,
say that she is a big
bitch and would hate her.
And you don't have to be that
for people to hate a heroine,
you just have to have somebody
who like was mentioned,
has emotional problems.
Or is, you know,
emotionally open,
and that's considered weakness,
and she's considered
to be stupid or dumb.
And so there's certain things
that we can allow of other kinds
of characters but not
of women characters.
We seem very disinclined to give
them certain nuances and leeway.
And especially, I think,
the psychological frailty
that can sometimes
be found in Gothic.
Because it is about women
sometimes being gaslighted.
About finding themselves in
these positions of victim.
But active player
at the same time.
Can cause people to have very
negative emotions towards them.
Because we really want
women to be kind of--
when they are in a
certain active role.
When they're the main
protagonist and they're
in this kind of narrative
where they're facing off
against somebody or
something, we want them
to take an Ellen Ripley
approach to get the flamethrower
and burn the alien down,
you know, immediately and be
like I'm a bad, tough lady!
And if a woman stops for a
second and says oh my god,
I don't know if I'm going mad
or what is happening here?
I don't understand how the
pieces of the puzzle fit!
We just say oh, what a weakling.
And what a silly lady that is.
Or even worse, you know?
But I think that has to do a
lot with how we envision women.
Dimensions that we
allow women to inhibit.
And how uncomfortable we are
with what I would call
complicated women.
>> Yeah. Sorry, just to--
>> Oh no, please.
[Crosstalk] said.
Go ahead.
>> Yeah, no, I think that was--
it's such a good
point about kind
of an almost double standard
about how men are held
up within fiction.
And I think it's really
interesting as a reader.
I don't think it's something
people are necessarily aware of.
But yeah, when I've
been reading feedback,
not just about my book,
but about other books.
As Silvia says, there's a lot of
leeway given to a male character
that isn't to a woman.
I think, as we said,
really believe
that the female characters,
in order to be strong
and the leading character, they
are meant to be seen in a very,
what I would describe as the
traditionally masculine way.
So they are kind of
there with their sword,
they're behaving
in a masculine way.
Which yeah, definitely Elin
doesn't in The Sanatorium.
And I think that definitely
causes people problems.
I think they're very
uncomfortable.
I can always-- you can
echo it in any kind
of workplace I've worked in.
I've seen a very similar thing
where people are uncomfortable
with kind of emotions
being shown.
And you are meant to
conform to a standard
which I don't think
anybody has said.
There's just that in
built within society
of how we are seen to be
meant to behave in that kind
of workplace environment.
And I think if someone
breaks away from that,
it kind of makes people question
themselves a little bit as well.
So yeah, it's been
really interesting.
>> I love hearing you both talk
about this because it's so true.
And sometimes, you
know, used to be
that women were the
Madonna or the whore?
And now I almost
see it as women get
to be Sansa Stark or Arya Stark.
And you know, I mean, you get
to be the very noble, you know,
ruler who sits on the throne
and is queen in the north,
or you get to be the action hero
with your sword named Needle.
And it's very difficult
for us to accept a woman
who could do all
of those things.
But it's also very
difficult for us to accept
that a woman might not want
to do all of those things.
And so, with that, I
want to take a quick turn
to Velvet Was the Night,
Sylvia's upcoming novel.
Because this is a noir.
And Silvia, I don't
mean to embarrass you,
but having just read it, it
is pitch perfect and superb.
I mean truly, this is an
amazing, amazing book.
I want to encourage everyone
after you read Mexican Gothic
and The Sanatorium, to pick
up Velvet Was the Night.
It's set in Mexico City,
if I'm correct about that,
at least parts of
it, in the 1970s.
And the reason I want to bring
this up now is not just to talk
about women in other
genres, including mystery,
Sarah, not leaving you out.
But I also want to bring
up the fact that Maite,
the protagonist who's a woman,
sort of joins forces with Elvis,
who is involved in a government
sponsored/sanctioned movement,
and this is historically
accurate, that is supposed
to put down student uprisings.
And I'm not going to spoil
anything else for readers.
But Maite has such different
expectations on her as a woman
in the 1970s in Mexico.
And you work with that.
She is wholly of
her time and place,
but she also is very
individual and very, I think,
I think she's pretty
feisty for who she is
and where she's come from.
Would you agree with
that, Silvia?
>> I think, I don't
know if she's feisty,
but I do think Maite is chaffing
against certain expectations.
So, in 1971 in Mexico, I mean
a lot of things are happening.
One of the things that
is happening is obviously
that the Mexican government
is imprisoning, torturing,
and killing student activists
that they see in any way
as communist or left leaning.
But the other thing
that is happening is
that the role of
women is changing.
And this is happening in other
parts of the world, obviously.
It's in the United States,
it's in Canada, the UK,
and all parts of the world.
Several parts of Latin America.
There are questions about what
are the limits and the roles
of womanhood and sexual
moors, reproductive rights,
all that kind of thing.
But we're still in 1971
in Mexico City amongst
a certain social class.
And for example, you're an old
maid if you haven't married
and you're 30, like Maite.
>> Right.
>> People don't take
you seriously
if you don't have a husband.
And there are certain things
where in that time period,
you really needed
to have a husband.
So one of the things I
[inaudible] I think is she has
problems with the mechanic
because they are price gouging
her and if [inaudible] a guy,
it wouldn't be like that?
This was something that
I remember, you know,
my mother saying that was true.
That when you were unmarried,
there were certain kind
of monetary transactions
where you would be,
there would be a premium you
would have to pay for inhabiting
that role of the old maid.
And not everybody could inhibit
that role of the old maid,
that also comes with a lot
of social privilege
[inaudible] can be an old maid,
then you don't have to marry.
So there's all these ideas
about what it's like,
what it is like to be living
in 1971 in Mexico City.
It wasn't so long ago, but
that's when my mother was young
and the things that she tells me
about being a woman back then is
kind of terrifying in many ways.
But the other thing is Maite
is a reader of romance novels.
And she is a fan of that.
And she's a fan of
those narratives.
Romance comic books, which were
popular at the time, in Mexico
but in other parts, in the
United States too in English.
And it's really a
clash of genres.
It's the clash between noir,
which has a certain
aesthetic, and romance.
And the destruction of romance
in many ways reforms how
that is not what
is going on here.
It's somebody who
would like to maybe be
in a Victoria Holdt novel
in the castle with the moor
and the Byronic hero and
have the happy ending,
but instead ends up in this
seedy little, you know,
dirty little noir and is
not even like, you know,
the Hollywood noir of
the Gildas and the--
>> Right, right.
>> Noir. It's the 1970s
sort of Chinatown,
grungy, sort of [crosstalk].
So it is-- it's a play on genre.
And genre expectations.
In a way. But there's also some
thought put into expectations
of what it's like to be
a woman at that time.
>> Thank you.
I, again, I just loved it.
And there's so much
to talk about with it.
But maybe I'll get a chance
to speak with you about it
after it comes out, too.
And that leads me,
Sarah, to asking you
about what comes next?
Because The Sanatorium
is your debut.
And I know, you know, either or
both of you may or may not want
to talk about what you're
working on, but I also know
that since we are
talking in a panel
that so many readers
are going to enjoy,
if you can give us a few
hints, that would be great.
>> My next book will
be called The Retreat.
And it is out probably sort of
March or April time next year.
And I continue with Elin.
And I think when I first
started thinking about her
as a character, I kind
of knew there was more.
I think with her and the partner
we meet in the book called Will,
I'm sure readers will be
familiar with the relationship.
And there was some interesting
feedback on the dynamics
between the two of them,
which we'll see develop
more in the next book.
But yeah, it's very much
continuing in the kind
of murder mystery genre.
But we also have
elements again of horror,
I think I'm very much attracted
to that sense of place.
So we have, it's
actually set locally,
so where I am in South Devon.
And we have a real sense
of Elin's home environment,
what has kind of influenced
her as a person, and yeah,
hopefully another
very sort of fun book.
>> That sounds really fun.
I do want to know what
kind of retreat it is.
>> Yeah it's very isolated.
I can't say too much.
I'm not sure how much
I'm allowed to say.
But yeah, we follow from Elin's
point of view but we also follow
from a group who are
staying at the retreat.
But yeah, we have a very kind of
strong topography, I would say,
without giving too much away,
which yeah, provides a challenge
for Elin and also links
to sort of a past case.
So we sort of delve a little
more into Elin's psyche.
And I think we're sort of
unpeeling her layer by layer.
There's more to Elin
than what we saw.
I think I had a few people kind
of say they very much found her
to be an unreliable narrator.
And I didn't explicitly
kind of do that,
but I think within
Elin's character,
she isn't telling us everything
and I think we learn
a little more
about that in the next book.
>> Thank you.
Now, Silvia, how about
after Velvet Was the Night?
Can you talk about what
you're working on post-Velvet?
>> Yes. Velvet will
come out in August.
So that is the immediate
next for me.
But I am working on corrections
for my next novel this month.
And that would be, I'm taping
this in July, should I say that?
I don't know.
But yeah, no, that is called
The Daughter of Dr. Moreau.
And that's a historical novel
set in 19th century Mexico
in Yucatan in the south Mexico.
We don't have a release
date, sometime in 2022.
>> That's very exciting.
Just from the title.
I don't want to push too
much on it, because again,
you don't know, you know,
whether you should be
talking about it or not.
But you heard it
here, first, everyone,
The Daughter of Dr. Moreau.
I'm going to ask a
few more questions.
I know we don't have all
the time in the world.
But I think another
thing people want to know
about is the research
that you each did
for Mexican Gothic
and The Sanatorium.
So Silvia, for the-- excuse me.
For Mexican Gothic, you
have a lot taking place
in this abandoned
silver mining town.
Mexico City, I imagine, I won't
say that was easy to research,
because you know, you
can't go back to the 1950s,
we don't have a time
machine yet.
But was it more challenging
to look at the mining town
or was it more challenging
to figure out Noemi's world?
A comment on that
would be great.
>> It's based on
a real mining town
that is called [inaudible]
or Mineral del Monte.
And it's in Hidalgo.
I've been there.
So I've physically seen
what it looks like.
It is in the mountains, it
is kind of cold and chilly.
And it was in fact, an English
mining town in the middle
of Mexico at one point in time.
I do a lot of research, but
it's, you know, quite variable.
I'm not sure how to
explain it most of the time.
For example, for the
architecture for the house,
it's not one single house; it's
a composite of several houses.
But there was one house in
Mexico City, specifically,
that I was looking at,
that was around the 19--
early 1900s, late
1800s that was built
by an Irish man, I believe.
And that had this
kind of architecture
that I found very interesting.
It looked-- somebody
told me that it looked
like the Addams Family house,
and it is true, after
I looked at it.
It has that certain
kind of look.
So if we picture the
Addams Family house,
that's the look of that house.
In the middle of Mexico City.
And so nothing else
looks like it,
even in that time
period kind of around it.
But there's just this house
in the middle of that.
And there's other
houses that are looked
at that were like that.
There was a German style house
also in Mexico City that again,
looks like an alpine
kind of retreat.
At the time, obviously
it was a German magnate.
That kind of stuff.
So, the houses in Mineral del
Monte have a very specific kind
of roof, the tile roof
that doesn't quite look
like the local stuff, because
again, it was a British town,
there were a lot of
people from Cornwall.
And so that kind of stuff
is something that I look at.
Interiors, fabrics, what
people would have been using
in a turn of the century house.
And then the 1950s
is a different era.
Of course.
So, that is more
like what somebody
of a certain social
class might have worn,
behaved like, and thought.
So Noemi is a socialite.
That obviously implies a certain
amount of wealth and resources
that other characters
might not have.
So she's very aloof.
She is a modern girl from
the time period, for 1950.
And so women don't
have the right to vote
in Mexico yet in 1950.
They won't be granted
the right to vote
until a couple years later.
But she's definitely a
representative of this type
of like modern womanhood.
She smokes and you know,
drives a convertible
and wears really fancy dresses.
You look at the press at the
time and how people are reacting
to womanhood and things like
that, there are some people
who are very critical of
that and they want, you know,
they're like why are
our daughters now going
out dancing instead of getting
married and having children.
So there's some of that also
embedded in the narrative.
>> You know, one-- I want to ask
you, Sarah, about this as well.
And then we're going to talk
a little bit about a couple
of other bigger ideas.
So, I know, Sarah, that
you lived in Crans Montana
in the Swiss Alps when
you were in your 20s.
And that's where you
set The Sanatorium.
So in a way, you had a lot of
research, quote-on-quote, done.
But that doesn't mean that you
didn't need to, oh let's say,
take another trip back.
How did it go for you?
>> Yeah, no, I think
you're right.
I think very much the
landscape, I lived by the coast.
So, going and living in the
kind of alpine region was yeah,
a hugely different
experience for me.
And I think probably, from the
get-go, I always knew I kind
of wanted a set, somewhat there.
And I kind of had worked on
several pieces of short fiction.
But yeah, very much the
landscape was embedded
and I knew I wanted to
sort of bring that in.
It was actually only when
we were visiting as a family
that yeah, I kind of stumbled
upon the idea of the sanatorium.
And it was very much a kind of
local magazine had an article
about the history of
sanatoria on the town.
And it was something
I wasn't aware of.
Essentially, sanatoria opened
up the very sort of modern idea
of the alpine town as we
knew it, for Crans Montana.
So, the idea of the clinic,
essentially there was only a
kind of very much a dirt track
that people would come
up by horse or donkey.
And it was really only the
sanatoria buildings that kind
of opened up the towns
to what would become kind
of modern day winter tourism.
So yeah, I read that kind of
article and it really sort
of sparked that initial idea.
And then one of the
lines within the text,
they called Dr. Theodore
Stephani, who sort of set
up the initial sanatoria,
had described it
as the architecture
of sublime isolation.
And that really kind of, yeah,
that really appealed to me.
And I sort of went
down a very much sort
of physical rabbit hole in
terms of driving around town
and seeing these buildings.
A few of them are still clinics.
So the sort of rough idea of
the architecture of a building,
which is a [inaudible] clinic
today, which is fascinating
to kind of drive around.
I didn't go inside,
but I sort of found
through a local photo
story, and a lot of images.
Yeah, so amazing
images of children.
They very much believed
the UV rays were healing,
even in winter.
So you had images of
children outside just
in their underwear kind
of taking in the rays.
People wrapped up outside.
Yeah, just fascinating.
And one of the doctors, Dr.
Stephani, who opened up,
actually kept a huge
archive of materials.
And the local photo historian
is actually published
that within a book.
So I had a wealth of
material of the kind
of past of the sanatorium.
And then yeah, then in terms
of the sort of police aspect,
which very much played
upon my mind,
because obviously I
took liberties with that
with Elin being on her own.
But I kind of very much
wanted to base that on fact.
I went and met with a
local Swiss policeman,
who I spent four
or five hours with.
And then lots of
email to and fro
about what would
happen in that scenario.
So at kind of-- yeah, I
learned a little bit more.
They're very, very strict
on procedure in Switzerland,
which presented me with a few
challenges while I was writing.
And then yeah, there was another
book actually, when I came--
without giving away too much if
people haven't read the book,
but one of the aspects of the
book I bring up is the idea
of these sanatoria, which were
used for women who were kind
of what they would describe
as sort of hysterical or ill
in their nerves at the time.
And I found some fascinating
actual documents and letters
within a book, which is
kind of a bit of a critique
of the modern day-- of modern
day psychotherapy and Freud.
And I found some amazing
original letters written
from a Swiss sanatorium
from one of the women
who was basically duped
into staying there.
Her father kind of said
you're going on a holiday.
They arrived at the train
station, were met by a doctor.
This is something that happened
not just in the Alps but kind
of in the UK as well,
as we know.
But yeah, it was interesting
to get that kind of perspective
from a Swiss point of
view, from a Swiss woman.
So yeah, there was lots
and lots of research.
I did about six months
of research while
initially starting to write.
Which felt like,
yeah, a real treat.
As with the second book,
haven't had quite as long.
>> Hopefully you'll
get a little more time.
I want to ask, I hope
that I might have time
for one more question
after this.
But the theme of this year's
National Book Festival is Open a
Book, Open the World.
And so I want to ask each of
you, either what that means
to you personally or how that
might be addressed in your work.
However you want to
speak about that.
So open a book, open the world.
Silvia?
>> Yeah, I think there's
many places that I met
for the very first
time through a book.
And not just places, but
time periods and situations
that I might not have
known about that I read
and that was a way I began
to understand the world.
So it's a passport into a
lot of different realities,
both imaginary and real.
And it's a fun way, I
think, to go on vacation
without leaving your
living room.
>> Excellent.
Sarah?
>> Yeah, I think,
very much echoed
in terms of sense of place.
But also I think
in terms of people.
I think, well, I personally
think seeing my daughter develop
and start to read, where we
learn a lot of our empathy
and kind of understanding
of other people is
through narrative.
And being inside
someone else's head.
And I think that kind
of fictional world
and how we see characters
express their thoughts
and feelings that, for me,
is opening up the world.
I think you learn to see
how other people think,
how other people feel, how
other people experience things.
So yeah, I think for me, it's
very much place and person.
>> Thank you both so much.
I want to thank the National
Book Festival for planning
and organizing and
sponsoring this panel
with Silvia Garcia-Moreno,
Mexican Gothic
and Velvet Was the Night,
and with Sarah Pearse,
author of The Sanatorium.
Thank you both, thank
you both for being here,
and I hope to see you again.
>> We hope you've enjoyed
this conversation and now,
we'd like you to hear more
from the Library's own
experts on this topic.
>> Welcome to the
Library of Congress.
My name is Suzanne Schadl,
and I'm privileged to serve
as acting chief of the
Latin American, Caribbean,
and European division.
I work with a wonderful team of
librarians and editors who work
in community with
researchers, writers,
and artists to foster
discovery, collaboration,
and access to knowledge
and creativity from
and about the Caribbean,
Europe, Latin America,
and related heritage
populations elsewhere.
Including Canada and
the United States.
I'm excited to share a couple
of items from the general
and international
collection in anticipation
of Silvia Moreno-Garcia's
latest Velvet Was the Night,
a historical noir novel set in
Mexico City during the 1970s.
When I see noir and Mexico
together, I think of film.
The Mexican director Roberto
Gavaldon, a native of Juarez.
He worked as an extra
in California before
establishing himself securely
within Mexico's golden
age of cinema as a master
of urban melodrama
infused with Mexican noire.
His film, Macario, was the first
Mexican film to be nominated
for an Academy Award for
Best Foreign Language Film.
It draws inspiration from
a story of the same name
by the mysterious B. Traven,
who wrote in German typically
about Mexico where he lived.
Traven's work spoke to Galvadon,
and others in the film industry.
This book, The Treasure
of the Sierra Madre,
delves into human greed and
corruption against the backdrop
of a Mexican landscape
and its colonial history.
So you can see the
noire connection.
Some of you may also link
this book with a western
of the same name
starring Humphrey Bogart.
Writers and film makers
share their crafts
and experiences with
one another.
Together they cross
borders, genres, and eras.
It is an exciting
journey to follow.
I cannot wait to
meet the characters
of Velvet Was the Night
and follow their paths
in this historical noire novel.
My second item is also visual,
and it engages with noire
in a different dirty war,
blinding visual storytelling
with investigative journalism.
Vida la Vida, Los Suenos de
Ciudad Juarez by Edmond Baudoin
and Jean-Marc Troubet,
engages in a written, spoken,
and visual conversation
around the physical, social,
and political landscape
of Juarez.
Telling some of the
stories this city holds.
In his introduction
to this graphic novel,
Paco Ignacio Taibo Segundo,
who recently edited a
wonderful collection
of short stories called Mexico
City Noire, writes "Here
in Ciudad Juarez,
the [inaudible]
and its epic were invented.
It was the city of the
absurd and terrible femicide.
Still unsolved,
incomprehensible,
and barbarous, terrifying."
This page is particularly
interesting for its reference
to many names, pairs of
eyes, and many perspectives.
Say nothing of different
forms of media.
I invite you to explore
this item and others
at the Library of Congress.
You're always welcome
in the Hispanic
and European reading rooms.
If you prefer to
visit electronically,
head to Blogs.LOC.gov.
International collections.
Thank you.
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